


Louder Than Words

by Inareskai



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ginny is wonderful, Harry isn't used to being love, Harry isn't used to loving things and them not dying, Ron helps by accident, Supportive Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23805964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inareskai/pseuds/Inareskai
Summary: Ginny Weasley has always known what she likes. She holds her opinions steadfastly and wears them on her sleeve. Harry knows this, it’s one of the things he likes about her, but sometimes it comes as a surprise.Cross posted on FF.net.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	1. Raindrops on Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly for Isidar Mithrim, who gave me the idea and distracted me from the other fic I'm trying to write. Thanks Isi. 
> 
> There's almost definitely going to be a second chapter to this, but don't hold your breath!

‘Merlin, I love ice cream!’ Ginny sighed happily as she flopped down next to Harry and Ron, bowl and spoon in hand.

‘You love a ridiculous amount of things.’ Ron countered, leaning over to try and dip his finger into the raspberry sauce in her bowl.

‘Yes, but it’s no less true just because I say it a lot.’

‘I just don’t see how you can love so many things. I love about 7 things, maximum.’

‘I just do.’ She shrugged. ‘Also, I don’t think you can count ‘food’ as just one thing Ron.’

‘I can and I will.’

‘How many things do you love Harry?’ She asked, drawing him into the conversation. He panicked for a moment.

‘Oh um. I don’t know. I never really had things to love when I was a kid, and then lots of people I loved died or I didn’t think I’d be around long enough to love them. So, erm, I can guess a number if you’d like?’

‘Wow mate, bit of a downer.’ Ron clapped him on the shoulder.

‘Love is quite a big deal isn’t it though? Like you’ve got to be careful with it.’

Ron gave him a look that reflected both deep affection and some pity.

‘I love you mate. Anyway, I’m going to go and find Hermione and some food. Two of the other things I love.’ He got up and loped towards the house, calling for Hermione as he went.

‘I wonder what his four other loves are.’ Harry said after a short pause.

‘Easy.’ Ginny replied. ‘Chess, Quidditch, his family, and lie-ins.’

‘That all makes a lot of sense. Have you always just loved things? Don’t you think you should be careful with what you love?’

Ginny regarded him carefully.

‘I have always just loved things, it’s easy to when you come from a household where love – if not much else – was always freely available. I’m not going to say it’s always easy to love though or that people shouldn’t be careful with where they put their affections. For a while after the diary I didn’t want to love anything at all, how could I when I’d loved something so dearly and then been betrayed to near death?’

Harry hummed in consideration of her point.

‘But I’ve always been passionate about what I like, ever since I was little. I didn’t start breaking into the broom shed because I ‘liked’ the idea of flying. I was already in love with the idea, and then I was in love with the feeling too.’

‘Again, that makes sense. I just… I’d always be scared to say it, you know?’

Ginny gazed at him gently. ‘Yes, I know. The things you love are often taken away from you and you’ve learned not to mark things as important to you, just in case.’

Harry ducked his head. ‘Pretty much.’

‘I understand that. I’m not saying I know what it feels like, because even my hurts around love are very different to yours, but I can understand it.’

‘I wish I wasn’t like this. If I could change it then I would.’ Harry said suddenly. ‘It’s important for you to know that, Ginny. If I was braver… well, yeah.’

‘Mmm, yes I think you’ve probably used up several lifetimes worth of bravery already.’ She leaned against his shoulder. ‘I understand, Harry. And I think time with all our Weasley madness and abundance of casual love will help make it less scary, eventually.’

***

Several months later, and now it had been pointed out to him, Harry was still trying to get used to how casually the Weasley’s loved things. Even Hermione, who was often less explicit with her feelings, seemed to be able to tell Ron, quite easily, that she loved him.

He really doubted he’d ever be able to say it. He knew he felt it, he loved them all and he wanted to be able to express that. He loved Ginny and wanted to desperately to be able to tell her, but what if it was too soon? What if, actually, telling her would make her realise that the things he loved always got damaged?

‘Ginny can you pass the potatoes?’

‘You’ve literally still got potatoes on your plate.’

‘I’m aware of that Hermione, but I want _more_.’

Ginny handed the large bowl of Mrs Weasley’s finest roast potatoes across the table, then turned to her mother.

‘I’d like to go on a walk later, is that ok?’

Mrs Weasley paused ever so slightly; she was unwilling to let any of her children out of the protection of home even several months after the War. There had been very little retaliation, unlike last time when Voldemort fell and most of his supporters had been elsewhere, this time they’d all been in the same place for the battle. They’d seen him finally die. And they’d either died during the battle or were very easily rounded up. The Auror office seemed to have almost everyone rounded up, and those they hadn’t were very minor. They’d offered Harry and Ron training positions to help track down these few who were left, but they didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. Those who were left were more ‘financial backers’ and ‘sympathetic to Pure Blood causes’ than people who were likely to take action.

‘I’d really love to go, mum.’ Ginny continued.

‘Yes alright, you could always stop in at the Lovegoods. Since they’re leaving for Guatemala?’

‘Yes! And they’ll be gone for ages! Luna’s coming back to Hogwarts after Christmas. I think their time apart really got to both of them so she’s going to be home schooled for a bit. Or, I guess, holiday-schooled?’

‘I don’t know if I’d trust Mr Lovegood to teach her anything that’s going to be on our exams.’ Hermione said carefully, clearly trying to avoid saying quite what she really thought.

‘McGonagall sent them the outlines for the classes, it might have some weird ideas added in, but it’ll at least be covered. I think.’

‘Good ol’ Xeno is probably less keen on some of the more obscure things after his ‘definitely-not-an-errumpant-horn’ blew up his house.’ Ron added, sagely.

‘I can walk you there if you want Ginny,’ Harry said.

George, who had been generally more subdued since Fred’s death, snorted into his butterbeer. ‘Sure, you’ll ‘accompany’ her will you Harry. How chivalrous.’ He wiggled his eyebrows a little.

‘It is very chivalrous of you, Harry dear!’ Mrs Weasley beamed at him. ‘That would be lovely.’

After dinner they set off for the 15 minute walk to the Lovegoods. The fact they’d given themselves 45 minutes went uncommented on.

‘Love you both!’ Mrs Weasley called as they were leaving.

The walked hand-in-hand for a few minutes, taking in the summer evening now that the temperature had lowered to be more bearable.

‘I love summer evenings, don’t you?’ Ginny asked, pausing to smell some wild daisies.

‘Yeah, I really like them.’ He replied. She didn’t even realise when she was using the word, he thought. She just loved things. He was a bit jealous, but mostly he found his heart swelled. How amazing she was, he felt, to be able to love so freely. Even after some of the things that had happened to her, after last year, after Fred. She could love so easily and so openly. He began to wonder if she’d ever love him like that but dismissed the thought quickly. If he couldn’t even say it – and he’d as much as told her that – why would she ever say it to him?

‘Oi, you two, wait up!’

Ron and Hermione jogged slightly to catch up with them.

‘What are you doing here?’ Ginny asked, suspicion clear in her voice.

‘Don’t look like that Gin, it was mum’s idea. She realised that if you drop into Luna’s but Harry doesn’t want to go in then he’d be on his own. Got herself quite worked up. Honestly, this is just to keep mum sane and not to stop you two doing anything.’

She frowned at him then turned to Hermione.

‘He’s telling the truth. If you want we can even walk a bit away from each other.’

‘No, it’s fine, you’re here now I guess. I was just saying how much I love summer evenings.’

‘I swear you love _everything_ Ginny.’

‘Ron!’ Hermione chided. ‘Ginny is just passionate about things!’

‘Yeah but is there anything you don’t love, I mean, really?’

‘Of course there is Ron! For starters, I don’t love nosy brothers who can’t let their sister enjoy things in peace.’

Ron gasped in fake affront. ‘Are you saying you don’t love me, Gin?!’

‘Only sometimes.’

‘I come all this way to make sure you’re both protected! And you say things like that!’

‘Oh shut up Ron, of course I love you.’

‘I know you do. Because you love everything.’ Ginny sighed but still smiled slightly. ‘You love that pebble over there, and you love breathing, and you love it when you stub your toe on your bed. There’s nothing that Ginny doesn’t love!’

‘Oh come off it Ron. I love sensible things at least!’

‘Oh yeah, like what exactly?’

‘Well I love ice cream, and quidditch, and the colour Gold, and mum and dad, and Harry, and the Holyhead Harpies – yes, they’re not covered under quidditch – and I love the Gryffindor common room, and my brothers, and Hermione, and Luna. Oh, and those new dress robes I got from Diagon Alley last week, I love those.’

Ron was clearly about to respond, but Hermione gave his arm a quick bat with the back of her hand and nodded towards Harry.

‘You… love me?’ He asked, staring at her.

‘Of course I love you.’ Ginny replied, looking slightly confused.

‘But, I said a few weeks ago that I couldn’t… that I find it hard… that it might be a while before I can say it to you.’

‘Oh yeah, but in telling me that you basically said you loved me you’re just scared of using the words. And I loved you well before then. My love isn’t conditional on you being able to say some words to me, Harry.’

‘Also didn’t you mention that your last thought was of her?’ Ron added to the conversation.

‘Ron!’ Harry yelped, his face burning. ‘I hadn’t… I hadn’t mentioned that to Ginny yet.’

‘Oh. Oops. Well, umm, I guess you have some stuff to discuss. Hermione, those interesting plants I mentioned a few days ago are up this way, if you want to go and see them?’

‘Smoothly done.’ Hermione rolled her eyes at him. But she allowed herself to be led away with him.

Harry suddenly felt very shy.

‘So… I was the last thing you thought about before you ‘died’?’

‘Yup.’ He looked at light freckles to the side of her eyes rather than directly at her.

‘And you’re scared of saying the words ‘I love you’?’

‘I… yes.’

‘And you didn’t think that maybe telling me I was the last thing you thought about when you thought you’d never think of anything ever again was a good substitute for that?’

‘Are you angry with me? I’m sorry, I should have said. Would it make up for not being able to say the stuff about love? I do get that it’s silly I can say that but not that I… not that. Because I do really want to say that but there’s just this stumbling block and I know it’s important to be able to say it but I just – ’

‘You don’t have to say it Harry.’ Ginny said softly, reaching out to him so they stood in each other’s arms. ‘You tell me through your actions. And how you look at me. And how we talk. You never _have_ to say it, because I know.’

‘But I want to say it.’

‘Then one day, I’m sure you will. But don’t put any pressure on it. You don’t need to say it for me to know. I am going to tell you that I love you though, probably fairly often. That’s just kind of who I am.’

‘I know that’s who you are, and I really like that about you. And you were the last thing I thought of. Because you’re brilliant and I wanted to die with a happy thought.’

She leaned up and kissed him, gently at first but it soon deepened. Her hands threaded through his hair as he wrapped his hand in her loose top, pulling her in closer. She loved him. She loved him and she knew he loved her. One day, he promised himself, one day he would say the words that scared him so much. It would just take a lot more time for him to unlearn that loving something didn’t mean it was going to get taken away. Until then, she knew he loved her. And she loved him, and Ginny had always been very vocal about the things she loves...


	2. A Drop of Golden Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's turn.

Ginny was at an international ‘friendly’ match in Barcelona when the news arrived. They’d even _called_ the muggle hotel they were staying in, since muggle phones conveyed news faster than most forms of wizarding communication. The Ministry were working on that.

_‘There’s been an incident during one of the raids, you should come home. He’s going to be ok, but we think it would be best if you were around._ ’

Her teammates were all very understanding; even though she’d only been playing with them for half a season so far, they’d already made some life-long friendships. She got an urgent portkey back to London, and found George waiting for her at the travel office.

‘Oh shit. It’s definitely bad if someone came to pick me up.’ She said when she saw him.

‘Thanks Gin, I could have be being an amazing older brother you know.’ He gave her a one-armed hug as they walked briskly towards the floo terminals.

‘You could, but why start now?’

‘You’re so rude. How did you get so rude? I didn’t teach you this sort of disrespect!’

‘You definitely taught me this sort of disrespect.’

‘Ok, fine. But not directed _at me_.’

‘At last the student has surpassed the teacher.’

‘You’ll never truly beat me at this game Ginny, stick to Quidditch, you’re apparently quite good at that.’

She snorted. ‘Yes, apparently so.’

‘The reserve scout of the Holyhead Harpies agreed with me, your teammates seem to agree with me, so clearly I am amazing at spotting pro-Quidditch players. I should invoice them a finder’s fee.’

‘You didn’t even know I could play until my 4th year!’

‘I’ve still got a 4-year head start on them then. Oh, we’re up next. Obviously, we’re going to St Mungo’s, ask for the ‘Magical Burns and Dismemberment’ department.’ At the end of his sentence he clearly caught the panic in her eyes. ‘He’s going to be ok. Honest. It was all just a bit of a shock. Ron will be able to explain it better when we get there.’

‘Was Ron involved too?’ She could hear her voice rise in panic.

‘He was on the same mission, but a different team so he wasn’t as close to the blast. Like I said, he’ll explain. Grab some floo powder and I’ll see you in a few.’

She hurriedly grasps at the pot the floo attendant was holding, spilling a little in the process which earned her a sharp ‘tsk’ from the middle-aged witch, followed by a short gasp when she was recognised. But she was already spinning away in a shock of green flames by the time the recognition came.

She arrived feeling slightly dizzy and a bit sick. Whether it was from the floo or worry she wouldn’t have been able to say. This time it was Ron who greeted her at the end of her travels.

He had a strange balm on going up his neck and clearly some salve and bandages over one arm.

Ginny burst into tears.

‘Ah. Fuck. Ginny. Really, it’s going to be fine.’

‘What _happened_?’ She demanded, tears still streaming down her cheeks.

‘We were investigating some illegal potion ingredients. It was a big raid on a lab we had intel about. They were using hinkypunk claw and obsicorne powder to manufacture explosives.’

‘Was it a trap?’

‘No, it was legit intelligence. It just… the people making it clearly hadn’t taken anywhere near as much precaution as they should have. Honestly, it’s amazing it didn’t blast the manufacturers to smithereens first.’

‘HE’S BEEN BLASTED TO SMITHEREENS?!’ She could see a medi-witch poke her head around a door to see where that commotion had just come from, but she didn’t care.

‘No! No! Sorry. I mean, a little. But he’s lived through worse!’ He said hastily.

‘You are NOT helping, Ron.’

‘I’d gathered that. Look lets head to the waiting room. The Healers are just in with him now but when they leave we’ll be able to go in. I think he’s still asleep.’

He took her hand and slowly pulled her towards the family waiting area, she could see Hermione and her father also sitting on the worn wicker chairs. George joined them about 10 minutes later.

‘The travel attendant wouldn’t let me leave! Wanted to thank me for my, and our family’s, role in stopping the war. It was very nice, but in the end I had to tell her I was running an urgent mission for Mr Harry Potter himself to get her to let me get in the flipping fireplace! Any news?’

‘They’re just applying the last of the balm, then we should be able to visit him.’ Her dad replied, she marvelled at his ability to remain so calm. Though she supposed this sort of situation was something he was now very used to.

Finally, after another 10 minutes, though Ginny would swear later that it felt more like an hour, the main Healer came to let them know they could go and sit in with him.

‘He’s still asleep,’ she said gently. ‘But the worst is over, we expect him to make a fast recovery but we’re going to keep him in for a couple of days to make sure the balm is regularly applied. Mr Weasley, how are you feeling?’

‘It’s warming up again now, but you said to expect that?’ Ron replied.

She nodded and gave him a warm smile. ‘Good, if it starts feeling like it’s burning then apply more, but your burns were quite superficial, thankfully.’

Hermione moved to wrap her arms around Ron’s waist, he lifted his uninjured arm to pull her in close. It was sweet, but it made Ginny’s craving to see Harry even stronger. She almost sprinted to his private room (the perks of being the saviour of the wizarding world).

Most of his torso and legs were bandaged, though his face had escaped any serious damage. She could tell from the way the balm oozed that he must have used his left arm to block the blast from hitting his eyes, it was definitely one of the worst affected areas. At least it wasn’t his eyes. She thanked the stars for his quidditch reflexes. His unruly hair was uncharacteristically short, singed off by the heat of the explosion.

She sat quietly in the seat by the top of the bed, wishing desperately she could take his hand but noting that they too were covered in patches of balm. Instead she rested her fingers gently against his slightly stubbled cheek, stroking in the same way she did when he was trying to get back to sleep after a nightmare.

***

Harry awoke to darkness. His entire body felt stiff and warm, but also like he’d just been doused in some sort of cold gel. He could feel Ginny’s had resting against his cheek. For a brief moment he thought he was just feeling the aftereffects of a dream and he was at home in their bed. It must not have been the first time he’d woken up that night, since Ginny had fallen asleep soothing him from a nightmare.

Then it all came crashing back. The sight of the un-covered powder, the call for absolutely no one to move. And they didn’t. This was no one’s fault except the people who put dangerous potions ingredients out in the open. The room had stilled instantly. But it was too late. The wind of their entrance blew the powdered ingredients, making them move in jerky motions. That had been enough. He’d only just had time to throw his arm in front of his face when the searing heat of the blast engulfed the room. He got lucky with he quidditch reflexes, he thought.

But who else had been in the room? He began to panic. Ron’s team hadn’t, had they? And Tourmorant, the newest member of the team. Where had she been? Had someone died? He was lucky to have survived, was anyone closer? His breathing picked up.

Ginny’s hand started stroking his cheek again. He could tell she wasn’t really awake, it was just an automatic response to his distress, even in her sleep she could tell he needed her.

He could tell he was badly injured. But Ginny’s presence told him that it must have been at least a little touch and go for a while, because she was supposed to be in Barcelona. She’d been excited for this tournament for ages, her first international debut since joining the reserve Harpies. It had been a good career sign for her.

But she’d come back. For him.

He always marvelled at that. The fact someone had come back for him. Of course Ron and Hermione stood steadfastly by his side through everything, in fact he was pretty sure the blurred shapes near his window were the two of them asleep on the battered arm chair all hospital rooms seemed to have. But for some reason it was different when Ginny came back for him.

On reflection he thought it was probably because Ron and Hermione had lives that meant they'd never leave him – that one time with Ron notwithstanding, that was long forgiven – but other people had left him and never come back. He knew that it was irrational to view it like that. It’s not like his parents, or Sirius, or Lupin, had _chosen_ to leave him alone in the big, scary, world. But they had. Dumbledore he was never sure about because, really, he had chosen to die. But then he was going to anyway, but he could have stayed on for a bit longer? Harry wasn’t sure about that one. Some of them had come to him when he really needed them, in the forest and in King’s Cross. But not the way Ginny came back, full of life and sunshine.

Ginny left, to live the life he supported her in having. And she always seemed to come back.

***

A few months later he was almost completely over the burn incident. There had been several other severe injuries – Tourmorant had quit over it, not that he could blame her – but no fatalities.

The days in St Mungo’s had rolled together, he’d ended up staying for about 10 days in the end. He had a constant stream of visitors and people to sit with him. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione most of all, naturally, but lots of other familiar faces dropped in too. Neville visited several days in a row, helping Harry with some different plant salves that cooled his burning skin. Hagrid stayed for several hours longer than visiting time, mostly because it had been such effort for him to get through the doors of the room that no one wanted to try and get him out again. Harry had greatly enjoyed the company.

‘A penny for them.’ Ginny asked as she collapsed down into the sofa next to him.

‘I was thinking about all the support I got while I was in hospital.’

‘Ah yes, the found family gathering round.’ She said, a tone of knowing wisdom in her voice.

‘Found family. I like that.’

‘I’m surprised you’ve not heard it before. I think it’s a muggle phrase.’

‘I didn’t have a particularly standard muggle up-bringing.’ He muttered.

‘You are not wrong. Good point.’

‘Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at Demelza’s?’

‘Yeah, I was there for a bit. It was nice to catch up with everyone. But I noticed that she had these muggle chocolates. Jaffa Cakes, right? And I know you mentioned ages ago that the Dursley’s never let you have them, even when Dudley got them. But also that Dudley didn’t get them often.’

‘Yeah, because it turned out they were my mum’s favourites too. Thank goodness for more of those old letters from Sirius’ room, or I’d never have known.’

‘Yes, well. Demelza had several boxes, so I asked if I could take one and decided to come back home to you. I’ve never had them before and I thought it would be nice to eat them together.’

Harry grinned at her. She was so perfect.

‘You were the last thing I thought of again.’ He blurted out suddenly. It wasn’t the fact she’d always come back to him that made him realise he had the courage to have this talk. Or the fact he was still scared of her not being _sure_ he loved her. It was the fact she remembered that his mother’s favourite sweet treat was Jaffa Cakes. It was the fact she’d wanted to share the experience of eating them with him. It was the thousands of small things, every day, that she did to show she loved him. She could do it through actions _and_ words. And he wanted to be as brave as her.

She turned to look at him suddenly. The moment with the Jaffa Cakes clearly gone from her mind.

‘It’s endearing to hear that, because I know it means you love me. But it’s awful to know you thought you were going to die.’

‘You’re my last thought of the day usually. So, it’s not just when I think I’m going to die. Although this time did panic me a little.’ He was trying to reassure her, but she looked even more distressed at this.

‘Not that I thought I was going to die!’ He added quickly. ‘I’m sort of used to that. Just that I wouldn’t get to see you again.’

‘Harry that’s really sweet of you.’

‘I never want to leave you. Not like I was left.’

‘They loved you Harry, they didn’t choose to leave.’

‘I know, I know they loved me. I know from how they acted that they cared for me really deeply. That they loved me. Or at least that they didn’t want me to be hurt. But I don’t have any memory of them telling me that.’ He could feel himself getting teary, but he knew he couldn’t stop this conversation.

‘You know they loved you though, so clearly you didn’t need to be told.’

‘You’re right, but I still wish they’d said it, you know? That I had a memory of any of them looking me in the eyes and saying it.’

‘I’m sorry you don’t have that.’ She said gently. ‘I’ll make sure to say it to you more often, so you’ll always have a fresh memory from me. You won’t need to worry about it if you’re ever in a dangerous situation again. But also, don’t get into a dangerous situation like that again, you got me?’

‘That wasn’t why I was worried, Gin.’ He almost whispered. ‘If I died, _you’d_ never have a memory of me saying it to you.’

He looked up sharply. Looked directly into her warm brown eyes.

‘I love you, Ginny Weasley.’

She gave him a watery smile, small tear drops leaked down the side of her face as she pulled him close to her and kissed his forehead. Then his cheek. Then, very softly, his lips.

‘I love you.’ He said again, firmly. He needed to make sure she could hear the conviction in his voice.

She laughed. A wild, joyous laugh that was uniquely hers. One that he knew she only let out when she was truly euphoric. It was infectious. Soon he fount himself laughing too. They shared kisses and ‘I love yous’ in between the laughter, curled up together on the sofa in their house.

‘Shall we toast our love with some Jaffa Cakes?’ He asked, after a little while.

‘Absolutely.’ She beamed. Reaching for the box she’d placed on the table earlier.

And, together, he tried his mother’s favourite mini-cake, in his Godfather’s house, his dad’s old record player on in the background, pictures of his Godson on the wall. His friends would be round for dinner later. And Ginny sat beside him.

Suddenly the fear that the things he loved would disappear seemed insignificant, for how could a fear like that survive in this new world he and Ginny were building together?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Other biscuits are available.  
> I just freaking love Jaffa Cakes and was amused that Lily Evans would like the ones with orange in the middle.


End file.
